Non partagé
by All Around Loon
Summary: Well, truth be told, I never really did want to devote myself to a life of crime. I would have, however, followed Arthur to the moon and back. Look where that got me. Arthur/OC
1. Une

I know it's ridiculous, but his things still litter my apartment.

I just can't bring myself to get rid of them.

Starched white shirts, a small expensive bottle of cologne, and a few other things that I am not so quick to mention. It's cold when I finally wake up, and I have to close the window because the breeze is giving me goose bumps. I pull the curtains shut hastily, because the teenager across the way is getting quite a sight of me in my underwear, and I don't need another run in with his mother. This is my life now.

Forgotten objects from _him _and a prepubescent boy who knows my sleeping schedule.

The phone rings and my muscles tense slightly, I keeping telling Georgia to get one with a less piercing ring, but she refuses. I answer it quickly so I don't have to listen to another shrill scream. "Bonjour."

"You're french is as bad as ever, Love."

"Hello to you too Eames. In town, I presume?"

"I will be in an hour. Boy, have I got a story for you."

"Oh, that good huh?"

"So good I made a special trip to Marseille just to tell you about it." 

"I'll meet you in an hour and a half then."

"Petit tour garçon?"

"Oui, I look forward to it."

He pauses and I can hear the ghost of a chuckle on the other side. "As do I, m'lady."

The click on the other end tells me that he hung up, and I panic slightly. He wouldn't bring _him_ would he? I don't think so. Eames knows the story, he knows how bad that would be- how awkward. I suddenly remember something and move over to the nightstand littered with lipsticks, trash, a pumas stone, and a small ivory elephant. My totem had been my grandmother's when I was a child- she had been to India in the late forties on holiday and acquired the little treasure. She left it to me in her will, and I am convinced there is not another one like it in the world.

It feels right in my fingertips when I pick it up, running my thumb along each little curve, twelve to be exact- they are all there. I sigh with relief.

Petit tour garçon is only a few minute bike ride from my place of residence, so I take my time getting ready. I want word to get back to the other boys that I look good for turning thirty in only a couple of months. My hair is thrown into a purposefully messy bun, and I shove on as much makeup as I own. I don't wear it often, I don't like the way it makes my face feel.

I change a couple of times, become more and more nervous as the seconds tick by and I am finally done an hour later. I decide to leave early- I cannot contain my anxiousness in the house anymore.

My bike is black and slender, with brakes that don't work and no gears. I never had any interest in a car and acquired the bike from the previous tenants of my apartment, who left it in the living room upon leaving. It's about ten minutes before I am standing in front of the little cafe with a striped awning and a painting of a plump little boy in the window with the words 'Petit tour garçon' painted above it.

I get a table for two outside and order coffee with steamed milk and a pastry.

I pondered for a moment what he wanted to tell me. What trouble the boys had gotten themselves into, and if they had replaced me completely. I wouldn't be surprised- I just hope it wasn't another woman because Arthur always had the unfavorable quality of latching on to young sweet things. Myself included.

I am halfway done with the coffee when a shadow lingers over the table and I look up to see Eames smiling down at me, merely a silhouette against the sun. "Hello Lilah."

I stand up, "Eames." And lean forward to kiss his cheek as is customary among our two cultures. "Sit down, order some coffee, it's good here."

"I remember from our last encounter." He smiles slyly and I can't help but smile back- he's practically infectious. "How's the dancing goin'?"

"Ballet is good, as always. And the business?"

"Business is boomin, I have quite a story to prove it."

"I hope you are not in too much trouble, you always did have a knack for squirming yourself into tight spots."

He grimaces slightly, biting his bottom lip and holding in a laugh. I roll my eyes at his childishness and thank the heavens that the waitress comes over before he can make a come back. He orders a black coffee and a morning bun. He always did like sugary things. "You got a man in your life?"

"What an inappropriate question, and no."

"Ah, still hung up on ol'-"

"Don't. I did not come to discuss my past, I came to hear your so-called amazing story."

He pauses when the waitress comes over with his coffee. He takes a small sip and nods a thank you before she disappears. Then he leans forward and whispers a word across the table. "Inception."

"Excuse me?"

"We did it."

"You are a liar." I say, because for all intensive purposes what he is saying is one hundred percent impossible. "You are a dirty, rotten-" He holds his hands up in mock surrender and cuts me off.

"I only speak the truth."

"Now, we both know that's a lie, fellow forger." I pause, and let a smile grace my lips because if what he is saying is true it really is amazing. "So, _if _this is the truth, then how?"

His story is long, and intricate, and he's leaning forward across the table, reciting it in a low whisper. I laugh and gasp at all the right moment, and when he is finally finished, the table is littered with coffee cups and I am on the edge of my seat.

"... and then we all woke up."

"Well!"

"Well what?"

"Did it stick, did he break up the company?"

"You didn't hear about it? It's been almost a year now."

"I am not exactly stateside, and I never pay attention to such menial things as politics of business." He chuckles slightly and motions to the waitress for the check. "What are you doing?"

"We're going back to your place." 

"Oh, are we?"

"Yes. I have a job offer for you, I am sad to announce that this visit was not completely free of motives."

"Your visits never are."


	2. Deux

Thanks for all the reviewssssssss! I am so glad people like this. If my OC gets annoying, please tell me- I have a very legitimate fear of her morphing into a scary mary sue.

Constructive criticism is welcome beyond anything, I love and crave it. Keep it coming. ENJOY.

* * *

Having Eames in my house is awkward to say the least. It has been a very long time since any male besides Roger has entered my living room- and Roger is a gay acrobat so he does not count in any sense. He takes a seat on my couch and props his feet up on the small center table. "Nice place ya' got here."

"Yes, and I would like to keep it that way." I answer, and smack his feet down. He sticks his tongue out at me and leans back. "I would offer you tea, but I think we both just drank our weight in coffee."

"Safe to say."

I sit down across from him and cross my legs, laying my hands on my knee and tapping my fingers. Georgia's grandfather clock is ticking heavily, filling the room with the only sound other than our own breathing. "So, about the job offer?"

"Yes, of course. We are in need of another forger for our next job, and I think you would be perfectly suited."

"You didn't tell any of the others about this, did you."

"Not exactly, no. But I don't see any reason why they wouldn't welcome you back with open arms. After all, given the hi-"

"They left me in France, Eames! The both of them just up and left, leaving nothing but some choice belongings in my apartment and a stupid little note. It's been nearly two years, and I haven't heard anything from anyone but you. Open arms might be stretching it a bit."

"Lilah, I think you are taking things a little too personal. You said yourself you didn't meet me to talk about your past- so let's talk about the job."

"Okay, tell me about it."

"Well, I can't give any specifics, only that we have become a highly recommended.. well... "

"Band of scoundrels? Thieves?"

"Let's call it a highly profitable business venture, shall we?"

"Whatever you want, my dear."

He smiles and leans forward, resting his hands on his knees. "That's a good little lamb. Let's start with a bit'a history. After we did it once, Cobb went into retirement. The rest of us couldn't keep our minds from spinning with ideas, could we do it again? Could we go deeper? Well the answer to both was yes, and we lost a good chemist along the way, but acquired a new, better one."

"So where do I come into play?"

"Our current group finds us short another forger. I told them I had someone in mind, someone who was the best- maybe even better then me. They agreed happily."

"That's because you didn't tell _him _that it's me."

"See, pet, that's where the problem _isn't. _Your dear little Arthur has been turned upside down with the jollies over our young architect."

I am silent, and I must look like the perfect picture of composure. Inside I am a raging hurricane that could take out the entirety of Europe in one fail swoop. "What happened to Nash?" I ask, polite as ever, concealing my increasing rage.

"He turned out to be a rat, no surprises there. Cobb acquired lovely Ariadne in Paris, and I dare say, she is quite good at her job." He pauses, and smiles that charming, toothy smile of his. "Nowhere near as ravishing as you, however."

"And how long have they been," I pause, and choke out the last word. "Together?"

"Oh no, you misunderstand, they skirt around each other like school children. It has been a year, but nothing has happened but maybe the occasional snogging and glossy eyed glances. I, however, have reason to believe her affections lie elsewhere."

"How?"

"It's complicated."

"So un-complicate it."

"I will make you a deal- come back to the states with me, you can see for yourself how they interact. You really are the best in the biz, besides yours truly, of course. There's a good deal of money in it for you."

"Money is nothing to me, Eames, you know that."

"I'm sorry, Little Miss Trust Fund."

My eyes narrow slightly and I roll my eyes. "Where in the states?"

"New York."

I mutter under my breathe, "Of course, it's always New York."

"Ah, that is where you met dear Arthur, is it not?"

"Yes, when I was in school. My boyfriend at the time was studying dreams at NYU, it was him who introduced us." I scoff slightly, shaking my head. "How ironic."

"I never took Arthur for the infidelity type."

"He didn't steal me away, it wa-" I stop and look him in the eye, narrowing my own and leaning forward. "Stop making me talk about this. When do we leave?"

"You'll do it, then?"

"I've got nothing else to do, plus, I do miss the rush."

"This is an entirely new kind of rush."


	3. Trois

So, third chapters. Wooo Hoooo. Thanks for all the encouragement, guys. You really rock and are giving me way more credit then I deserve. I LOVE IT. haha. Keep it coming and I'll keep writing- well, I'll probably keep writing anyway.

LOVE LOVE LOVE to all my reviewers. Enjoy!

* * *

Three days later, I am sitting in first class next to Eames, a couple of suitcases in the cabin below us, headed for the states. I am rubbing my fingers along the little ivory elephant, trying to remember that this is reality, trying to prepare myself for what awaits me. No doubt, Eames' cruel nature will prevail, and Arthur will be meeting us at the airport.

"Stop fidgeting, love."

"Shutup, you ponce."

He chuckles and holds a hand to his heart. "Using my own slang against me, nice one, pet. Don't be so nervous, you look smashing, Arthur is going to-"

"Going to what? Punch you in the forehead for not telling him it was me? You know nothing about what we had, Eames. I very highly doubt that you have ever had any kind of meaningful connection with anyone, much less a women, so please stop assuming you understand how Arthur, or I, are going to feel upon our reconciling."

He is quiet after that, and I succumb to listening to Edith Piaf on my ipod the rest of the eight hour flight. She has been my favorite ever since I was a child, my mother used to since me to sleep with 'La vie en rose' and my very first choreography job was set to 'Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien'. That one has always been a song that is very close to my heart, and Arthur's as a matter of fact. We shared a love of french music.

Car ma vie car mes joies. Aujourd'hui, ça commence avec vous.

_Because my life because my joys. Today, it begins with you._

I must have fallen asleep, I jolt awake when the wheels drop from the bottom of the plane, causing slight turbulence. "Ah, sleeping beauty awakes."

"How long was I out?"

"Five hours. Don't worry, you don't look it."

I hate to say it, but I was worried about my clothes being rumpled, and my eyes being glossy from sleep. And then something hits me, I never sleep on planes. Ever. "Di-did you drug me?"

"I figured you needed your rest."

"As if I won't get more then my share of sleep on this trip, I don't think my level of rest is any of your concern. I would highly appreciate if you refrained from slipping me any more roofies, Eames."

"If it was a roofie, you would have been out a lot longer, love, relax."

What a stupid thing to say. How on earth could I relax when an unsuspecting Arthur was waiting in the airport for Eames and an 'Unnamed guest'? I could just see him, standing there with his hair slicked back, decked out in a designer suit tailored to perfection, checking his watch every couple of seconds. He is annoyed, dark brown eyes darting over everyone in sight suspiciously. I wonder if he will bring the girl.

I hope not, I am not sure my heart could handle it.

The plane comes to a halt and I vaguely pay attention to the flight attendant announce something about the weather and baggage carousel. My mind is racing a mile a minute, and I feel like I may pass out if I have to stay sitting one more second. I stand up and push past Eames, throwing his briefcase in his lap. He catches it and glares up at me. My purse is the only thing I have on the plane with me, and I already have it slung over my shoulder.

We exit the plane quickly, without much delay and pass through immigration with no trouble. My feet feel like my boots are made of lead and I struggle to take each step. My hair is not straight like usual, but curled and messy, hanging just below my shoulders.

I have to stop this.

I take a deep breathe and shake my head once.

I will drown my nervousness in bitterness and remind him of what he's been missing these last two years. He thinks he can just forget me and move on? No way. You don't just forget Lilah Katz and move on. You don't just leave Lilah Katz in France to rot. Oh, poor little Ballerina isn't dangerous enough to run with the big boys.

Well, truth be told, I never really did want to devote myself to a life of crime. I would have, however, followed Arthur to the moon and back.

Look where that got me.

My little pep talk is almost working, but all thoughts and words leave my mind when he comes into view. He is exactly how I remember, maybe a little more weathered in the face, but handsome as ever. Arthur has always been a snappy dresser, and nothing has changed. He looks down right dapper in a light grey, form fitting designer suit.

"Eames, there you are, I sw-" He stops talking when his eyes catch mine. His mouth hangs open and he allows himself to look dumbfounded for only a moment before gaining his composure. He swallows once, and then turns to Eames. "I thought you had trouble."

"No trouble at all, everything went as plan."

"What was that plan exactly?" He says, swallowing heavy again and glancing at me quickly. At that point, I feel as if I want to jump on the baggage carousel and ride it all the way back to France. "I had no idea that your _man_ was former associate of mine."

Associate. So that's what we're calling it, huh.

"It's good too see you again, Arthur."

"Of course, Lilah. Welcome back."

I wonder if he's forgotten how well I know him, I can tell by the panic in his eyes he is seconds from bursting out of his skin. Eames is grinning from ear to ear and I swear I could slap him. One of those really loud soap opera smacks that would be heard by everyone in the place. The sound would bounce off the walls.

When we step out of the airport, Arthur has a car waiting, and Eames claims the front seat and makes me sit in the back with Arthur. My heart is beating so hard, I swear he can probably feel it across the seat.

He gulps once more, closing his eyes for one moment and then opening them again, staring out in front of him. Eames rolls down the window, and I am distracted for a moment by the smell of the ocean, of city grime and that smell only New York can possibly emit.

It's good to be home.


	4. Quatre

Short chapter, but it needed to be done. Thankyou for all the AMAZING reviews. You guys really do rock. Keep reading, Hopefully it will keep making sense. I have an amazing knack for creating black hole sized plot holes.

Enjoy!

* * *

The car ride is completely silent with the exception of Arthur clearing his throat a couple of times and Eames chuckling quietly to himself in the front seat. The silence is finally broken as we cross the Williamsburg bridge and Eames turns around to face Arthur. "Is anyone at the warehouse?"

Arthur is quiet for a moment, and then answers in a low, hurried voice. "Yes, Ariadne and Eduardo."

Ariadne? What a ridiculous name. I have never been fond of names pulled from Greek mythology. I ponder for a moment if she lives up to it- does she always guide them from the labyrinth in their time of need? Maybe that's why Arthur- I am not going to further that thought.

"Who is Eduardo?"

"Our chemist, he's good, and from Spain. You'll like him. He's not so uptight. I am sure he will be more welcoming then our dear Arthur has been."

Arthur falters for a moment, and then looks over at me with narrowed eyes. What Eames said hurt his feelings, I can tell because when Arthur's feelings get hurt he has two reactions: Anger and deeper anger. It only shows through his eyes. "It's not that I am not happy you're here," (That's a lie)," It's just that we have a lot to talk about."

"I do agree, Arthur. But we can discuss that mammoth in the room later, first, I would like to meet your team."

The silence takes over again until we enter the meat packing district and Arthur directs the cab driver to a smaller warehouse on the corner of a tiny, unnamed alley. He pays the man a hefty sum and we exit the cab. I refuse help unloading my suitcases, but Eames insists and carries both of them for me.

Arthur is nervous, I can tell my the way his brow is wrinkled. When he unlocks the door, I hear voices inside and when they look up, both look confused. I bet they were expecting a man. Arthur steps in and walks over to a filing cabinet, pulling a few things onto the thin poker table. Eames introduces me. "Ariadne, Eduardo- this is Lilah Katz, and old friend of Arthur and Dom's."

The girl is small and not as pretty as I imagined. She's very plain, with a boyish figure, nice hair, pretty face. Her voice is small, and sounds vaguely canadian. "Nice too meet you. How do you know Arthur?"

What a loaded question, how do I even begin to answer that? Strictly business, Lilah. "I was the forger before I was replaced by Eames. Unlike that scoundrel over there, I decided to further my career rather then devote myself to a life of crime." What a lie.

"And what career is that?"

"Ballet, I work for a company in france. I attended school here, at Lincoln center- it's where I first met Arthur and Dom."

"At a... ballet school?"

"No, my boyfriend at the time was studying dreams, it was through him that I first entered the dream space. I became good at pretending, so I caught their eye."

"Oh," Is all she says, and glances toward Arthur. He is staring at the folders, completely blank, lips pursed. He almost looks annoyed. Who could blame him.

"So Arthur, care to show the lovely Lilah where she will be residing for the time being?"

"Am I... should I stay... here?"

"Yeah, should she?" Ariadne says, and is seems innocent enough but irks me nonetheless.

"I think it would be good for her, you know, to get acclimated again. Sounds like she's been out of the business for a long time." Eduardo answers, and everyone seems to take his word for it. I grab one of my suitcases and Arthur grabs the other, motioning with his head for me to follow him. He takes me up a flight of stairs and down a small hallway. There are four rooms, each with the door closed, he pushes the room on the right's door open and sets my case down. "I'm across the hall if you need anything, it isn't exactly the Hilton-"

"It's fine. There is a bed and a desk, I don't need much else."

He stands in the door way, staring at the wall behind me, for the first time letting his guard down and looking as confused as he feels. He leans against the door frame and crosses his arms, looking down into my face and sighing. "I thought I would never see you again."


	5. Le passé 1

One of my wonderful reviewers, Michelle I believe, commented on how she would like to see a little bit of Lilah's history. I wrote up a couple of pieces, and I will be posting them sporadically throughout the story. Just little tidbits, probably some fluff- silly things. Let me know how you like it!

Enjoy!

* * *

"_Yeah, and maybe I don't want to go meet your creepy dream friends. Maybe I have class or something, and I don't have time to be running around Manhattan with you." _

_Ethan stares at me, and then wraps a hand around my waist and smiles slightly. "You always have time to run around Manhattan with me, Sweetie." I smile back, but it's halfhearted and dragging. He's starting to annoy me, truth be told. This whole dream thing confuses me, and he tells me I'm really good at it, but I don't wanna be. I'm a ballet dancer, not a faker or- forger. Whatever it is._

_I do skip class and go down to second avenue. He's meeting these people at The Telephone Bar, and I'm relieved, because if nothing else I am going to get some shepherds pie from this whole silly excursion._

_The Telephone Bar is dark like always, and empty because of the early hour. There is one man sitting at the bar, he's a little wiry and his features remind me of a rodent. Not in an unattractive way, just very sharp. His hair is longish and brown and he glances towards us. The table behind him seats two men. _

_The first is tall and blonde and very attractive. He looks older then the other man, but not by much. His eyes are the clearest blue I have ever seen, and I notice he looks cheerful. His whole demeanor is relaxed and he stands to shake Ethan's hand. "Good to see you, have a seat. I see you brought a friend?" He asks and glances over at me with those eyes- I'm captivated by them. _

_I pause, and then realize he is staring at me, waiting for an introduction. "I'm Lilah," I pause and let him shake my hand. "Lilah Katzenelenbogen." I shake my head slightly, because my last name is hard to say and spell and I can't wait until I get out of school so I can shorten it. "I hope it's not too much trouble, me tagging along."_

"_Of course not, the more the merrier."_

"_Lilah is a very talented forger."_

_This catches the other mans attention, and I catch his eye for the first time since we arrived. He's skinny, and his brow is very prominent. His eyes are small and dark, his hair is short, shaved close to his head. He's wearing a brown leather jacket, jeans and a white shirt t-shirt. It's strikes me as odd, since the other man, Cobb I overhear, is wearing a suit. "You're a forger?" He asks, and I turn to Ethan then back at him._

"_Yes." I answer, and I'm about to say something else, but Cobb speaks up._

"_Forgive me, Lilah, this is Arthur. He's a colleague of mine, interested in shared dreaming."_

_He keeps staring at me, and it creeps me out a little. Ethan and Cobb begin to talk about some business venture, a job and a lot of other terms I don't understand. At some point the rodent man from the bar joins us at the table, and Arthur glances over at him. "This is Nash, he's part of the team."_

"_You have a team?_

_They don't answer me, and I just turn to Cobb and Ethan and listen in on their conversation. "So, long story short, my wife and I have been toying with the idea of shared dreaming for a long time. We are trying to see how deep we can go, and it seems the possibilities are endless. I've read about your work, and it's impressive. I think you would be a valuable part of the team." He finishes, and looks over at me. "As for your abilities, forging isn't something that's necessary in the dream world. It's used mostly by crooks, and we're not looking to steal anything. It is, however, an interesting talent. One I would like to see you perform, of course, if you're interested."_

_I pause, and Arthur and Nash are watching me, waiting for an answer. "I'm very interested."_


	6. Cinq

I am sorry about the short chapters! I feel really bad, but I just- when it's done, it's done , you know? I don't have control of my characters anymore, if Lilah is done talking them I'm done writing. She's finicky and it sucks.

More flashbacks on the way, the lovely Michelle poses wonderful questions and I love to answer them!

BTW my BETA is on vacation in europe (The lucky bitch) so please excuse all of the minor errors. I panic when I post things without her guidance, so don't be too harsh? Thanks :)

ENJOY!

* * *

"See, and I always knew I would see you." I pause and turn to look at the small, twin bed in the corner. I am going to need new sheets, but for now, I guess the aged yellow ones will have to do. "She's cute, the girl."

"So Eames lived up to his troublemaking reputation then?"

"Of course. You know him, he loves to stir things up." I smile, but he doesn't, and there are bags under his eyes and I want so badly to reach out and touch him. To feel the smooth material of the vest he's wearing and see if our energy is still there. Our spark.

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks for saying it, but it- it's been almost two years, Arthur."

"I know."

"I don't think you do, I don't think you lived through it like I did. Do you want to know why? Because you did the leaving, you didn't get left. You moved on, you did your job, you accomplished something no one else has. Time flew by for you, it didn't for me, I was too busy wondering why I wasn't good enough for you."

He is quiet until, "Why did you come here, Lily?" And it doesn't sound as venomous as I wold have thought, he even uses my nickname. "Why now?"

"Eames asked nicely."

"Don't lie to-"

"Maybe I just wanted to feel it again- the rush, the excitement of being part of something bigger then me. Maybe I came to see you again, regardless of the girl." He is stoic, staring at me with his almost black eyes- his shark eyes. They can hold so much warmth when he allows them too. "Does she even know about me?"

He purses his lips slightly, "No, of course not."

"Good, I am glad I have no reputation to live up to. Tell me about the job, the role I will play."

He looks resilient for a second, like he might turn around and walk back downstairs. He never wanted me to be a part of this life, he wanted me to be pure and clean of crime forever. "A very wealthy man died a month ago, he did not have a will. All of the money went to his then wife, a very young woman who may or may not have been in it for his fortune- his daughter was left with nothing and also believes she had a hand in the murder. She hired us to get her father's widow to give up her inheritance and to find out the truth. If we succeed we get a quarter of it."

"And how much is that?"

"A lot." He answers, widening his eyes. "Even for you."

I smirk slightly and lean against the desk, running my hands along my arms for warmth. I forgot how chilly fall in New York could get. "So where do I come in?"

"You are an extra, filling in as the woman's dead mother, and anyone else we may need. We need Eames for her late husband, I guess he thought you were the best candidate for the job."

"And I'm not?"

"If you're as talented as you used to be, I have no doubt in your abilities."

We are quiet for a moment, and I bite my lip, let go, run a hand through my hair and catch his eye. "Did you ever miss me?"

He pauses, opens his mouth to say something, and then closes it again. "Yes," he says, his voice hardly audible. "You haunted me for a long time."

"Good." He looks surprised and I walk forward, holding the door with one hand. "Goodnight, Arthur." He takes a step back, but I still close the door in his face. Asshole. I hear him walk down the hall way, down the stairs and then, silence. It only last for a minute, and then I can hear low, hurried whispers in the depths of the warehouse.

You can hear everything in these stupid warehouses.

I slip out of my clothes and into sweatpants, I won't sleep, but I will relax. My weathered copy of '_a farewell to arms_' is at the bottom of my purse, I had intended to read it on the plane, but never got the chance. It's one of my favorite books and even though it ends terribly, it makes me feel better.

The little ivory elephant is sitting on the night table and I stoke it a couple of times, making sure every little curve is there- that every knick is in place.

I listen to them bid farewell to Ariadne and I roll my eyes. Stupid name.


	7. Le passé 2

So, here is the second flashback! Again, My BETA is on vacation, and I read it over myself but we all know that's insufficient. Please excuse my errors, I apologize greatly. I will be writing more flashbacks, as I do enjoy early twenties Lilah and Arthur very much, and I hope you do to!

Enjoy!

_

* * *

Arthur rolls off of me in one fluid motion, and I reach to the nightstand to grab my lighter. I stand up and walk over to my purse, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. When I light one, Arthur gives me a strange look and coughs. _

"_I wish you wouldn't smoke." He says, taking the cigarette from my fingers and taking a short drag. "It's really very bad for you."_

"_Well, it curbs my appetite. Would you rather I shoot heroin between my toes to stay thin, like supermodels?"_

_He looks taken a aback, but grabs the cigarette and smashes it on the nightstand. "I would rather you come back to bed." I crawl back between the sheets and cuddle up to his body, slick with sweat. I wonder for a moment if I'm his first, but then push the thought from my mind. He does things to me I can't even spell- this man is no virgin. He plays with my hair, and runs a hand along my cheekbone. "Lilah?"_

"_Hm?"_

"_How did you become a forger?"_

_I sit up and stare him in the face. It's been almost a year since we started sleeping together and he has never once inquired about my hidden talents. "Well, it started out as... uh... recreational fun."_

"_What do you mean?" He asks, and he's confused and I hold in a smile because the right side of his hair is sticking straight up in the air. He looks adorable._

"_Ethan was into," I pause and swallow. "Pretending. He liked to- uh, no, I can't! It's just too embarrassing." I bury my head in the pillow and try to hide my reddened cheeks. Arthur lays a hand on my shoulder and pushes me so he can view my face._

"_You don't mean he-"_

"_Liked me to be other people? Yes, that's exactly what I mean. He would ask me to be actresses, women we knew- anyone really. I loved him, I didn't question it. Though looking back, I realize I probably should have been a little more prudent with my abilities. Needless to say, I became good at forging because I had a whole hell of a lot of practice."_

_Arthur stares at me, considering maybe, and then wraps a hand around my waist and pulls me so I am laying flush against him. My breathing quickens and he smirks, squeezing my hip a little so I jerk into him. "Now, why would anyone want you to be anyone but you?"_

"_You know, I have no idea." I smile and he leans forward, catching my lips with his. _

_After we make love for the second time that night, I get dressed and make a pot of tea and Arthur doesn't bother to put clothes on. He just lays in bed and waits for me to return. When I climb the ladder up to the platform where the bed lies, the blue hue of the morning is shining in. It gives the loft an eerie glow and I switch the bedside lamp on. _

_He is quiet, and I know he wants to say something. "What?"_

"_I was just wondering- what kind of people were you?"_

_I pause, and then sigh, setting my tea on the nightstand. "Well, he had a thing for Ann Margaret and that little crazy girl from that silly sci fi show- firestorm or something."_

"_Firefly- it's about space pirates." He says, and I look at him oddly. "What? Sometimes my inner geek shines through. I grew up obsessing over Star Trek, I know a thing or two about space travel."_

"_You know, I could be Uhura for you."_

_I don't mention the flicker of want in his eyes and neither does he- but he does clear his throat and shake his head a little. "You are one hell of a woman." _


	8. Six

I am SO SORRY this took so friggin long! I am a lazy procrastinator.  
But here it is, the sixth chapter. Woo Hoo! keep reviewing, it is my fuel!

Enjoy!

* * *

I don't sleep all night, read halfway through a farewell to arms, pace around for a whole hour, put all of my clothes away and change twice before finally heading downstairs at somewhere around seven o'clock. The time difference would have made me a lot more wonky if I didn't sleep on the plane, but I still feel like crap.

Arthur is the only one awake, and he nods good morning to me, pouring a cup of coffee and pushing it my way. I drink it black because I don't see any milk, it leaves a familiar, bitter taste in my mouth.

Arthur is wearing slacks and a starch white, long sleeve shirt. He is pouring over a file, sipping the coffee slowly, trying not to spill it. We do not speak, but I do take a seat next to him and read the files over his shoulder. It's a profile on the mark, Cassandra O'Hare-Marcus. The picture is small, but I can tell she is an attractive women, bleach blonde hair, a bad tan and fake fingernails.

Arthur finally succeeds in spilling his coffee, and scoots back, pushing the folder across the table and cursing under his breathe, his loaded die careens out of his pocket onto the floor. "Let me get you a towel," I say and he wipes the excess coffee off of his shirt, which is stained with the brown liquid. He accepts the towel, but begins to unbutton his shirt anyway. I look away, because it's polite and busy myself with the folder, reading through everything.

Arthur returns moments later, leaning over me. I didn't touch the die, but I nod my head towards it and he sighs and picks it up, examining it for a moment and then tossing it on the table. He closes his eyes and sighs again, shoving it back in his pocket. "Anything interesting?" he asks, leaning over me.

"A lot of things, nothing that is going to help me, though. Got a folder on the dead mother?"

He looks at me like the question was nothing but assanine. "Of course. We have a whole list of profiles, people you might want too observe before trying to forge them..."

"Though, if the mother is dead I can't observer her."

"You make a good point, Lily." He smirks lightly and we lock eyes for a moment. He clears his throat and I look away, he stands up straight and turns. "I have to go find a tie."

"I should go find that file." We part ways, and I pull a pair of glasses from my shirt pocket and slip them on, while looking for the file. It's labeled 'profiles' in Arthur's sleek, slanted handwriting. When Eduardo and the girl show up, I am sipping coffee and reading through the file. Eames stumbles down the stairs not soon after, groggy, in a mismatched suit as usual.

"Morning Lilah." Ariadne says when she takes a seat across from me, slinging her bag over the back of the chair. "Where is Arthur?"

"Upstairs, he had to get dressed." Eames chokes a little on the coffee he's drinking and I look up, clarifying quickly. "He spilt some coffee on his shirt." All is quiet after that, and I close the folder and hear Arthur descending the stairs. "So with Dom gone, who is in charge?"

All goes silent, and Eames scoffs a little under his breathe, mumbling and leaning against a filing cabinet.

They all look at Arthur, even Eames, who doesn't seem happy about it. I get the feeling he doesn't want to be the leader, but he doesn't want to take orders from anyone but Dom, either. I wonder how they got a job without Cobb. Arthur is good, but he lacks Dom's charisma and reputation. "I guess Arthur," Ariadne answers, pointing.

He nods slowly and passes us each a file. "Let's get Lilah updated on where we are so far, Ari, show her the layouts. Eames give her full characteristic profiles on the people you've been observing." I glance across the table at Ariadne who stands up and motions for me to follow her.

She leads me across the warehouse to a small table littered with foam structures and pictures stuck to a cork board, illustrations and mazes. I look down at the foam structures, "What is it?"

"A Hospital, I figured it would make the most sense.

"This design is unbelievable. Between you and I, Nash was a rotten architect." She sweeps a strand of hair behind her ear and smiles coyly.

"Thanks. The second layer is a cemetary, and the last is a theatre, an opera house." She says with pride, showing me a couple illustrations and more foam mazes. She has a sweetness about her that is undeniable, and I see everything that Cobb saw in her. She's addicted to creation just like he was- Mal would have like her, I think. "How long have you known Arthur?"

I have to think, because honestly, it feels like I knew him a lifetime ago. "Since I was twenty three, so six years, we haven't seen each other in almost two, maybe three."

"Why did you lose touch?" She asks, tilting her head, and I wonder if I should tell her- but decide otherwise. Arthur would be upset, I just know it.

"Our paths shifted, we wanted different things and I no longer fit into their plan." Or, you know, they deserted me in France leaving nothing but a note.

Ah, the note. I must have read it so many times that I can recite it from memory.

_My dearest Liah,_

_I hope you know this is not a decision of heart, but of mind. You deserve better then this life, and I will not have you dragged along, chased by unnamed corporations and corrupted. I love you. I always will. 'You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die.'_

_-Arthur._

He's a sap, that's what he is. That last line is even from my favorite movie, he pulled out all the stops to break my heart in all the tenderest places. I have half a mind to warn this girl, but Eames suspicion is now mine, and I can't help but wonder if her affections truly do lie elsewhere.

Perhaps the chemist will have my answer.


	9. Sept

I take forever to do everything. I know.

* * *

The chemist, Eduardo (Or Eddy as he likes to be called), is a very attractive man. His hair is is parted in the middle and every couple of minutes he runs a hand through it, staring intently at whatever he is scribbling down on the notebook. His eyes are small for his face, and a deep, chocolate brown. He's scruffy in a way that makes him seem more like a man's man and his voice is that of a lover. Heavily accented and sexy in every way. If Ariadne has her sights set on this man, then who could blame her?

He oozes sex with every step.

"Lilah, do you need something?"

"I wanted to ask you a question." he looks up, intrigued, narrowing his eyes and dropping the pen.

"Of course, anything."

"Are you seeing anybody?" He stares at me for a moment, possibly dumbfounded, and then sighs slightly. He stands and looks me straight in the face.

"Lilah, you are a very nice woman, but you aren't exactly my type."

I widen my eyes and shake my hands in front of me, "No, I wasn't... god no. I was just wondering."

He looks embarrassed for a second and then sits down again. "Yes, well, no. Not officially, no."

"It wouldn't happen to be Ariadne, would it?"

He licks his lips slightly, and runs a hand through his oily hair again. "Well, in a sense. We have a mutual affections, yes, but nothing set in stone. She's just so..."

I finish his sentence for him. "Innocent."

"Yes, pure. She is the most uncorrupted woman I have ever met, and she sees things differently... in a beautiful way. Her mind is like a puzzle I just can't solve, and I want too... so badly." Well, I wasn't expecting all of _that. _

"So why the lack of an official standing?" I ask, honestly wondering, and perch myself on the edge of the table.

"She seems to think that relationships within the team with destroy us. She and Arthur danced around the idea of a romance for a while, but it never stuck. Maybe she doesn't want him to get hurt, or.."

"Maybe it's self preservation. She doesn't want to ruin the only place she's ever felt needed."

"It could be that. But... I think she's stronger than that."

"It has nothing to do with being strong, and everything to do with being wanted. She feels like she belongs here, which is not something you come by easily."

"You make a good point, Lilah. As much as I don't like it, you do." His accent is strange, very americanized in a way that is still very spanish. I can't explain it. "How did you come to find all of this out?"

I pause for a moment. "Because I used to be her. Not an architecht, of course, but the same mentality. I was the girl in the group, everyone wanted to protect me, and I was the best. Goddamn I was the best."

"What happened?"

"Exactly what Ariadne doesn't want too- I fell in love, and it tore our whole operation apart from the inside out. Things got too complicated, and it started to complicate the jobs and then Mal died and ev-" I pause, because he's staring at me like he doesn't know what i'm talking about. "Nevermind all that, just know that what she believes is better. Love complicates everything."

"She might be worth it, for me- complications aren't exactly my concern. I don't even go under. What happens in dreamspace is your problem, not mine."

"Good mentality. Does Ariadne ever go under?"

"Always. Arthur hates it, but she likes to be in the thick of it all, no matter the danger." I nod and he goes on. "She get's very nervous about her layouts, even after a year she still has trouble believeing that she is the best."

"Whatever happened to their old chemist?"

"He got his share of the money and decided this was all a little too much excitement for him. He said his goodbyes and from what I hear, lives somewhere in the bahamas now."

"And how did they come to acquire you?"

"I went to UC Berekely with Arthur, he knew I could be trusted, so they looked me up. I was home in Huelva, and they came to recruit me. Honestly, I had nothing better to do."

"Amen."

An hour later I am standing with Eames, learning the manneurisms of Cassandra's brother, Howard. He is a small man with no air, he has asthma and he's fidgeting- always. He has a habit of pushing his glasses up too high the bridge of his nose and he bites his fingernails. "He's a repulsive little man, really." Eames says, handing me the picture.

"He looks very shady, I'll give you that."

"And oh, is he. He works with computers and from what I can gather, he isn't exactly a man of large moral character."

"And you are?"

"Hardy har, Pet. Study up or the big bad boss might want to punish you. He's very serious about his job."

"Do I sense a bit of jealousy, Mr. Eames?"

"Not jealous. I don't want the job, I just don't want him to have it. No one can replace Cobb, and definitely not his skinny little point man." I want to defend Arthur, but what Eames is saying is true. From what it sounds, this is not only a job of Inception, but also extraction. This woman may have killed our clients father. Arthur is very good at holding the fort, I don't know how well he will do in Cobb's shoes.

"Don't call him skinny."

"Oh, no Lilah, of course not. He's a regular Venus De Milo under that suit, I'm sure."

"Eames?"

"Hm?" He says, looking up at me.

"Your an ass."

"Yes, I know."


	10. Huit

Here's a new chapter for all of you who are still reading! It's a little slow, but I promise there is a whole lot more to come.

Thanks for sticking with me and my infrequent updates. I love you guys.

* * *

It's two days before the job. "Cassandra is afraid of flying, so she's taking a train all the way from New York to Sacramento, California."

"Why Sacramento?" Ariadne asks, and Arthur answers.

"Home for the holidays. Now, this complicates things slightly, but also gives us more then enough time to get what we need from her, implant the idea and get out with our lives. This is not a hard job by any means, and I have faith that-"

"We're gonna need a lot more then faith to get this job done, Arthur." Eames says, and Arthur sends him a glare and sighs slightly. I turn to Eames and widen my eyes, silently telling him to stop. He shrugs and makes a face at me.

"I trust that everyone knows their role by now, and we have a clear idea of how we are going to accomplish what we need too. Lilah," he says, and my head snaps to attention. I wasn't paying attention, I was too focused on thinking about getting a pizza before I leave New York. "Do you need to do more research on the mother tonight?"

"Yes, probably. I haven't been able to find much."

"I have a solution to that problem. Meet me in the office when we're done here."

"Aye aye, Captain." Did I just say that? Jesus, what is wrong with me lately? He stares at me strangley for a moment, but moves on. Ariadne explains the layouts to us in greater detail then she ever has, and I realize that the theatre will be Arthur's dream, and that means it's going to be beautiful. I have entered his dreamspace more times then I can count, and the man truly has impeccable taste.

The meeting is finally over after nearly two hours, and Eames leaves the warehouse after muttering something about an 'engagement down town' and 'the girl'. Eddy and Ariadne leave together, after she discovers that he has never eaten a falafel.

Arthur and I are truly alone for the first time since I arrived.

We avoid each other for a little while before I knock on the door to the office. He's sitting at the desk, chewing on the edge of a pen. Hes wearing a brown sweater over a rolled up striped shirt. And a tie, of course. He loves ties. "You wanted to talk about the mother?"

He looks up, shaken a little, I must have surprised him. The chair he was leaning back on slams on the floor and he catches himself on the desk. "Yes, of course. Come in." He clears his throat and starts fiddling with the papers on his desk, and he sticks his hand in his pocket to stroke his loaded die.

I take a seat across from the desk, and cross my legs, waiting for him to speak. He is quiet, and then stares up at me with dark eyes, looking completely lost. "So... the mother."

"Yes, right! She was a single parent, her husband left her for a flight attendant when Cassandra was only seven. From all accounts she was a mean old woman, and was a pain in the ass until her dying day. I acquired some old home movies," he pushes a couple VHS tapes across the table.

"Arthur, this is amazing." I smile and look down at the old tapes, labeled with peeling yellow stickers that say things like 'Aunt Joans Anniversary' and other mundane things. "Thank you."

"You always liked to have a lot to go off of, if I remember correctly."

"Yes, it's what makes me so good at my job." He opens his mouth to say something, but his cellphone rings and he holds up a hand to tell me to stay where I am. He says hello to someone discreetly and then leaves me alone in the office. I stand up, deciding to look around while he's gone. Something catches my eye, a dark brown leather jacket.

He's had that silly jacket for years.

"_No. I came to see you."_

"_Go wait in the front, I'll be out in five."_

"_I thought you said you weren't off for another ten minutes."_

"_I'm not." He's wearing that stupid leather jacket, a white shirt and jeans. He stopped wearing jeans around the age of twenty five, after that, it was strictly slacks. I remember my heart was beatig fast because Ethan had already dumped me and I was dangerously attracted to Arthur. I met him outside, and he was standing under the awning, hiding from the rain. "Do you want to come to the stuido with me?"_

_"What?"_

"_After work I go practice at a studio on the lower east side, it clears my head. We could go get some food after."_

_He pauses, staring me in the face and considering it. "I would like that. I've never seen you dance."_

"_Eh, I'm nothing to shout about. Come on, we'll miss the train."_

"_Wouldn't you rather take a cab?" He asks, pointing to the street, but following me. _

"_Just because I have money doesn't mean I don't love the subway, hurry." I run and he follows, slipping a little on the way. We're near soaking when we finally make our way down the stairs. He stares at me on the train, and it makes me nervous. He always did make me very nervous. The door is unlocked when we arrive and I push it open because it always sticks._

_I remember him watching me very closely while I danced, like he knew it was for him. I was practicing my spotting, spinning in place when I felt him grab me. Pulling me to his chest with both hands, he leaned down and just before he pressed his lips to mine- the timer ran out and we both woke up._

It figures that our first romantic encounter would be in a dream. We went on for weeks like that, sharing dreams and only showing our true feelings within them. It was stupid of us, because things got out of hand quickly.

I pull the little ivory elephant out of my vest pocket and hold it in my palm. Arthur makes me feel like everything is a dream, he always has. It's going to take more then a keepsake to keep me grounded this time.

When he comes back in, I blush a little because of what I was thinking about, all the intimate memories. "I'm sorry, I had to take that."

"No worries. I was just considering how long you've had that jacket."

He looks behind him and chuckles slightly. "Yeah, it has been quite a long time."

We are both quiet, and I just kind of stare at my hands, thinking about how I should get a manicure soon. My cuticles are all ripped from picking at them. It's a nasty habit, but it happens when I get very nervous. I can feel him staring at me, and then I hear him sigh and I look up, and he's looking at me and then I have to look away because the intensity of his stare is enough to make me downright nervous.

What he says next very nearly makes me laugh. "You've dyed your hair, haven't you."

"Yes, I did. After you left I felt no need to keep it so light, plus, I wanted to be sultry. I thought that if I changed my look, changed everything, maybe I could rid myself of you. But that didn't change that I still kept your cologne on my bathroom counter, or that your shirts still hang in my closet. No matter how hard I tried I could never erase you."

"Oh Lily, I'm so-"

"Don't. Just don't say it again, you said it once, and that was all I needed. I won't ask you to grovel, it's not in your nature."

He is quiet and then he speaks, and his voice is quiet, nearly a whisper and he's not looking at me when he says it. "I would grovel for you."


	11. Neuf

Weekly updates from now on! I finally got all of my writing off of my hard drive, and the story is done! Woo hoo! Thanks for sticking with me!

* * *

Eames and Ariadne are stiff, laying on two plastic lawn chairs with their eyes closed. I am sitting cross legged listening to 'The Man With The Big Somebrero'. Arthur loves Joan Havoc, and is watching it on an old television set a couple feet away from where they are sleeping. He's sipping coffee slowly, and I am humming the tune of the theme song under my breathe.

The timer beeps and they stir immediately, Ariadne glares at Eames a little and then jumps up, rushing off. I look at him with narrowed eyes, "What did you do?"

"I did nothing. She's a girl, her hormones-"

"Don't even start, Eames. What did you do?"

"Don't start on me, I'm not the one with my panties in a twist over a boy." That catches Arthur's attention and he turns in his chair to observe our argument. "And stop giving me that look."

"Did you say something to her about," I look at Arthur sideways and turn back to Eames. "You know who?"

"Who's you know who?"

"Just answer the question."

"I can't answer it if I don't know who we're talking about, genius."

"Hook the machine up again."

"Why?"

"Because we're going under. We need to have a talk."

"Listen if this is about that beautiful night we shared together, I'm not really rea-"

"Eames, one more word out of you and I am going to bury you alive, next to my house so I can hear you screaming. Hook up the damn machine." Arthur is standing now, his back turned to the television, hands balled into fists watching this unfold. He stalks over to the briefcase and lets his hand hover over the button.

He looks at Eames, "We will discuss your beautiful night with Lilah when you wake up." He presses the button. The timer was set for two and a half minutes, so I have a half an hour to berate Eames in the privacy of my own subconscious.

The fire is crackling slightly, and the wine glass delicately placed in between my fingertips is almost half empty. Eames is sitting across from me, the bottle in front of him, looking annoyed. "Are we in a cabin?"

"Yes, it's pretty. And it's snowing outside, I love the snow. Now what did you say to the girl?"

"You brought me all the way here to ask me that?"

"And to practice forging, but mostly, to ask you that, yes."

"Well, I brought up Cobb, she went a bit mad, actually. Started going on about how I don't have any right to say that sort of thing, and how I knew nothin' about nothin'."

"What did you say about him?"

"Well, I kind of eluded to the fact she was, maybe... avoiding a relationship because she was in love with him."

I am totally silent because this is ridiculous. Utterly, ridiculous. "She is aware he is a forty year old widow, correct?"

"Fully."

"And that he has children, and she could be a sister to those children. He's old enough to be her father. Plus, didn't Arthur... you are all so confusing. We were never this mismatched, I had Arthur, Cobb had Mal, you had hookers, it was all so black and white."

"I never had hookers."

"Tulip was a hooker."

"Oh, yeah, that one was. Besides the point- can we move on, and start practicing?"

So we practice for a whole twenty five minutes and he tells me that I am scary as the mother, and that he's going to have nightmares. I tell him he doesn't dream anymore and he's about to comeback when the timer goes off and we both wake to see a very unhappy Arthur hovering over us.

"Have you two slept together?" Eames chuckles, pulling the IV from his arm and standing.

"So what if he hav-"

"No! No we have not. Never, not once," I look up at Eames and say the last word through gritted teeth. "_Ever_."

Arthur looks likes he is about to say something venomous when his cell phone rings, he answers and then stalks off, leaving the warehouse entirely and ducking into the alley outside. This is the fourth mysterious phone call he has gotten since I arrived, and it's starting to make me insanely curious. Eames seems less bothered by it, and wanders off in search of an internet connection. I decide to go find Ariadne.

When I finally locate her, she is upstairs in one of the four bedrooms reading a large textbook, 'Ancient Greek Architechts at work: Problems of structure and design'. She doesn't look up when I open the door, so I knock a little. "Im sorry to bother you."

"Oh no, I was just catching up on some work."

"Strange question, do you want to go get some pizza?"

She pauses, considering. "Yes, yes I do. Let me grab my coat."

I follow her downstairs and decide to warn Eduardo of our departure. Eames and Arthur alone in a warehouse full of tools could turn into a very disturbing Hostel situation given enough animosity. I would very much like to return to all eyeballs and genetalia fully intact. He agrees to mediate and I lead Ariadne all the way to Bensonhurst in Brooklyn. The train ride is over an hour, but it's worth it, because Bad Boy's had the best pizza in all of New York.

She sits across from me, waiting for the slice to cool down. I look to my right and observe myself in the mirror- I look tired. How ironic.

"So, you knew Cobb when Mal was alive?"

I am taken aback my her question, but recover quickly. "Yes, I knew them both. She was an extraordinary women, a painter with an eye for landscapes." I realize that I am going to tell her about Arthur and I, that now is the right time for her to know. She needs to know. "I think you should know that Arthur and I have a lot of history. I am not saying it's going to complicate the job, but it might and I think you have a right to know."

I start to pick at my cuticles, but stop because it's a nasty habit. I can imagine my mother slapping my hand away and saying some along the lines of 'stop chewin' on your fingers' in her old timey, brooklyn accent.

Ariadne looks confused, but keeps quiet and I just start to talk. "We weren't just friends, ever. We were always something more, maybe not lovers at first, but that's what it turned into. I ashamed to say that we botched a job, and things just got so complicated that it tore us apart. Cobb became angry with Arthur and I, and Arthur and I became angry with each other. So, we ended up in Marsielle, France on our way to Paris. This bigwig theatre owner needed something pulled out of his rivals head, and I remember being very excited to go to paris," I stop and lean down to take a bite of pizza.

"When I woke up the morning of our departure, I found all of their things gone and a note on the kitchen table. I called Eames because he was the only one I could get in touch with, but he never gave me any information on their whereabouts because he didn't know himself. I haven't seen Arthur until now, things are still very..."

"Confusing." She finishes.

I nod. "Yes, confusing."


	12. Dix

Arthur is nervous and pacing back in forth in front of the van parked in the Warehouse. His whole demeanor is tense, and I briefly look at him and mutter something the earliness of the hour and lay my head back on the table. It's four in the morning, the day of the job and train leaves at seven thirty from Penn Station.

I am not sure why we had to be up so early, but Arthur knocked on my door and insisted I be awake. I think he just wanted someone to be nervous with. "Are you alright?"

He stops pacing to look at me, and then begins again as he talks. "No, I am not alright." His voice is a rushed whisper, and he's flailing his hands about. "I don't know how to do this, how to be the leader. The last job we did was a complete disaster, we barely got out with our lives. Eames of all people had to save us, and I have not stopped hearing about it since it happened."

"What did happen?"

"The mark figured us out in the second layer and then shot Ariadne. Luckily, the timer ran out before she died, but it was too close of a call. Way too close."

I get up and walk over to him, grabbing his upper arm to make him stop pacing. He's only two inches taller then me, so I can look him straight in the eye. "Stop freaking out. You are capable of this, Arthur. If anyone is capable of taking Dom's spot, it's you. He was your teacher and mentor and everything he knows, you know- so use it."

He doesn't say anything, just stares down at my hand grasping his firm bicep. My heart quickens when he looks up and catches my eyes and for a flickering second, just one, I think he might kiss me. I pull away quickly, like I stuck my hand in a fire, and walk towards the coffee machine. It's nearly five now and the blue hue of the morning is starting to peek through the large windows of the warehouse.

It's eerie, to be truthful.

The suit I'm wearing his white, so I make a point not too spill any coffee on it. I can feel Arthur's eyes on me, watching me like a hawk. When I look behind me, I mirror his stare, dark brown eyes and all. His have always been much darker then mine, the color of a mocha. My eyes are much a much lighter, chocolate brown. When I was younger, I used to wish they were darker so that I could look more mysterious.

Arthur does look mysterious, he has a brooding sort of beauty about him, like a greek statue. He always looks so sad, so serious and when he does smile, it lights up a whole room.

"Good morning, puppets. Ready for the show?"

Arthur glares and begins pacing again. "Don't call me a puppet."

"Right, marionette then?"

"Eames, don't." I say, shaking my head and widening my eyes. He gives me a look and I just shake my head again.

Ariadne shows up soon after Eames comes downstairs and Eduardo is with her. They are all about nervous glances and shifty eyes. I know those looks. They slept together. Wow, this girl is having a tidal wave of boy issues. I swear that if I was in any place to give advice, I would.

"Good morning," Eddy says, reaching for a cup of coffee. Arthur claps his hands together and smooths down his hair, we all look and he falters for a moment and is completely silent. Eames sends him a sideways glance and looks back at all of us.

"So, everyone ready?" The englishmen asks.

We all nod a yes and he slides open the door of the van. "Eames, it's barely five thirty, the train doesn't leave for another two hours." Ariadne has a point.

"Well, we can sit in au bon pain or something, get in the damn van, please."

Arthur slides into the passenger seat and I take a bucket seat in the middle, the opposite side of Arthur. Ariadne crawls into the back and Eames takes the other bucket seat. Arthur is pale, and he looks very young, younger then I have probably ever seen him. I suddenly get a mental image of him naked, singing 'New kid in town' by the Eagles. It was in a hotel in Denmark, I was crying and homesick and he just hopped out of bed, stark naked, and started singing the Eagles.

I chuckle to myself, and Eames looks at me but I just shake my head.

That is a private memory, and one I won't share for Arthur's reputation if nothing else.

Penn station is crowded and there are christmas decorations everywhere I look. Eames hightails it to the bathroom, and Ariadne is drawn into one of those silly travel shops with the rag magazines and the chips everywhere. Eduardo goes with her, and I see them talking quietly. Arthur is still pale and I hook my arm around his, and he looks susprised, but I just smile.

"You hungry? I'm hungry. Let's get some soup."

He doesn't protest, just let's me lead him to Au bon pain. I don't remember much about the place other then the bread is good and so is the peach iced tea. I'm a sucker for anything peach flavored. He gets a croissant and I think that sounds good, so I get one and I make them toast it and then I slather it in jam and butter.

When I look up across the table he's smiling at me. "You still eat things the same way."

"Yeah, I like what I like. France has changed my tastes a bit, but they're still rooted in the same thing- slather everything with butter and jam." This is nice, I think. And for a second I think we can be friends, maybe all that history is just that- history.

And then he looks up at me with warm eyes, the black fading the way it used to when he looked at me and a ran hand through my hair, brushing it behind my ear. He doesn't touch me, but I can feel him anyway and I we sare at each other. For the first time since I arrived we just look at each other and I smile and he smiles back and if we were twenty four again I would probably drag him to the bathroom for a quickie. He would tell me no, we shouldn't but I would make him do it anyway.

But we aren't twenty four anymore, we're adults now and there is no college buffer, there's just us.

There is just this job, and the team that Arthur has to lead and all of my mixed up feelings. It feels like someone put my feelings for him in a blender and hit chop, and now I can't help but act like a-

"You didn't sleep with Eames, right?" He asks, interrupting my thoughts.

"That depends, would you be jealous if I did?"

He doesn't hesistate. "Yes."

"No, I didn't, you know me better then that. I don't mix business with pleasure, and he is strictly business."

"I do remember us mixing those two quite often, Lil."

"Yeah, and look what happened."

He's quiet after that, and just eats and drinks his black coffee. "How's your brother?" He throws me off guard with that question.

"Still estranged, we don't really talk. He had a baby two years ago, I think they might have sent me a christmas card last year, but I tossed it." He shrugs and wipes his mouth with a napkin, which causes me to focus on his lips. I imagine myself just lunging across the table and taking him right here on the cold, dirty linoleum floor.

"Lily, you okay?"

I feel the blood rush to my face, but I shake it off. "Y-yeah, I'm fine, sorry. Hey, it's almost six thirty, we should probably round everyone up, go find Cassandra."

He nods in agreement and grabs my garbage to throw away, I nod thanks and try to clear my head. The images floating through my mind are not appropriate for the hour, the company or the current activity. The last thing I need is the enter the dream world thinking about ravishing Arthur on a linoleum floor.

Bad, bad choices.

We find Eames at burger king, he talks about french toast sticks for a whole five minutes until we find Ariadne. She looks distraught and Eduardo is no where to be found. She insists he will meet us on the platform and we take her word for it. I wonder what happened between them, but can't bring myself to ask.

I tell them to wait for me while I go to the ladies room and as soon as I exit the filthy stall, I see a familiar reflection. Bad fake tan, blonde hair- I duck back into the stall. She reeks of expensive perfume, and I cough a little. I wait for the click of her heels to fade before I hurry from the bethroom.

"Did you see her?"

"Who?"

"Cassandra. Let's go." We split up, Arthur and Ariadne go seperate ways and and I grab Eames' hand and put on my best english accent, which I dare say, is quite convincing. He nods with approval and we walk the rat maze that is Penn station until we hit the section for Amtrak. It's circular and there are a lot of people, but I do see Eduardo, he's talking to the teller, laying on the charm. Arthur is leaning against a wall reading a newpaper, scanning the crowd. Ariadne is standing to our left, arms crossed, looking impatient.

Cassandra bumps into her and Ariadne says something and smiles, and Cassandra doesn't smile, just keeps walking. Well, she's going to be pleasant.

"She looks a bit like a swamp hag, don't you think?"

Eames smiles and nods. "A bit yes, Darling. Do you think if I pinch your bum that Arthur would blow our cover to hit me?"

I pull my hand from his and slap his wrist away. "No, but I will hit you. A loud, resounding slap that will echo off the walls, you dunce."

"Keepin' my hand to myself then, don't worry. You two are getting awfully cuddly, you know."

"Cuddly? I have not been cuddled once since I arrived, you should be more worried about sweet Ari and your chemist. They're all full of awkward tension and sideways glances."

"You don't think they- oh, naughty kids."

"Naughty kids is right."

"You know dear, I love you in an english accent. It suits you so perfectly, very posh, stuck up."

"Don't make me hit you."

"Bring it on, barbie."

Arthur snaps his head to attention when the smack echoes and Eames yells 'bollocks' into the distance. "I know we're not supposed to draw attention to ourselves, but I couldn't resist."


	13. Onze

I'm glad you all love this! Woo hoo!

See, I promised good updating. Soooo many reviews. I love you guys 333333

* * *

"Did you steal that mans wallet?"

"No."

"I think you did, let me see your inside pocket."

"No, bugger off."

"Eames, give it back."

"Really? Have you lived in France so long you forgot what being a thief means? 'Oh, excuse me sir, I just stole your wallet. Here you go.' Stop being such a priss."

"Don't call me a priss, you ass."

"Children, please stop." Arthur says from behind us, Eames grabs my hand and squeezes it and Arthur rolls his eyes and pushes past us. He ducks into the sleeper compartment across from Cassandra's and closes the door. Eames and I have the one next to his, and Ariadne and Eduardo have the one across from us.

The compartment is small, and there are bunk beds, a small washroom and a window. I don't feel a need to be english anymore, so I just shake my head and look up. "We're getting off in Chicago, right?"

"Yupp, gives us two days to get the job done."

"So, tomorrow night then? If we did it tonight we would still have to be on the train with her for a day."

"Why don't you go next door and run that by _the boss_." He says, not looking up from the bed where he's laying. The train starts to move and I lurch forward, catching myself on the bed.

"I hate trains."

I open the compartment door, and there are a lot of voices, all of them seem to be yelling over the howl of the train. I knock of Arthur's door and hear a bang and then the door slides open an inch. "What?" He says, hiding behind the door.

"Can I come in?"

"Wait."

"Why?"

"Just wait!" He says and slams the sliding door shut, I rear back a little and wait nearly two minutes before he slides it open and beckons me in. "What is it?"

"What is wrong with you? You're acting crazy."

He runs a hand through his hair, nervously and it's the first time I've seen a hair out of place since my arrival. His whole demeanor is tense and he looks donwright scared. "Did you have a question?"

I nod, and pause to remember what it was, "Are we doing the job tonight or tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow night, that way we can head off the train in the morning. I'm going to the airport and heading out to California." He says and I take a seat on the bed. "Make sure everything is okay with Cobb."

"Is everything okay?"

He looks at me sideways and then takes a seat next to me, sighing heavily. The dim light of the train compartment makes him look old. "No, Lily. He's not okay."

I am confused and I shake my head and lay a hand on his shoulder. "What happened to him?"

He looks up at me, and then back down at his hands. "He's not with his children, he never got home. He had a nervous breakdown. Miles and I found him living all alone in his house, writing on walls and... he just broke. So he's been in an institution for the last year. I got a call from his nurse last night, and he tried to commit suicide. It seems that he now believes the same thing Mal did, that this is not his reality . We thought that we fixed it, Ariadne and I- we really did think he was better."

He finishes and tears are stinging my eyes and I take my hand off his shoulder and cover my mouth. "Arthur, you've been keeping this secret f-"

"I know it's not right, but I just couldn't tell them. I just couldn't."

"Why did you tell me?"

"Because I trust you." He says, and then leans into me a little, inhaling and closing his eyes. "It's strange how someone can be so familiar, and yet so foreign at the same time. Your hair is a different color, but it still smells the same."

I'm quiet, because I don't know what to say, what to do. When he opens his eyes, he leans forward and I lean back. His eyes are narrowed and glossy, and I know he wants to kiss me, and I want to kiss him but I lay a hand on his chest and say, "Arthur, don't."

He stops, always the gentleman and runs a hand through his hair again. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's a natural reaction, you're scared- and now I see why. And I'm coming to California with you."

"No, you're not. I won't let you see him like that."

"Well, Arthur, good thing it's not your job to protect me anymore. In case you forgot, Mal was a real good friend of mine, and I think I owe it too her to make sure her children and her husband are both intact and alright. I'm just as loyal to them as you are."

He nods. "Fine, just please don't tell the others. Ariadne couldn't take it, I know her."

"I think she is a lot stronger then you give her credit for."

"Maybe, but I would rather not test the theory."

Back in my compartment, I find Eames on the bottom bunk so I climb onto the top and decide to read until dinner and I must have fallen asleep. A knock on the sliding door wakes me up, and Eames jumps up to open it. I sit up on my elbow, and I see can see Ariadne staring nervously into our compartment. "Can I talk to Lilah alone?"

Eames rears his head back, but steps aside. "I've been meaning to check out the bar." He says and stops right before exiting, "Don't have too much fun while I'm gone." Ariadne glares a little and then leans against the closed sliding door. She exhales softly and closes her eyes.

"I did something terrible."

I climb down from the bed as gracefully as a can in a suit on a moving train. "What happened?"

"Eduardo and I kind of-"

"Had sex?"

"No- well, almost- kind of... maybe." She's speaking hurriedly almost in a whisper. I squint my eyes because, well, she's making no sense.

"You almost, kind of maybe had sex with him?"

"Does it count if we didn't finish?"

I close my eyes and bite my lip to keep from laughing because I don't know how to answer that question. I understand why she came to me, but this is a little but beyond my wealth of knowledge. "Ari, I'm only gonna tell you this once. Okay? Okay. You cannot be thinking about this right now, we have a job to do, and you're going under with us and it's just to distracting. We can discuss this in Chiacago. We'll get a cosmo and see what we can figure out."

She sighs a little and shakes her head. "Okay, focus on the job, I can do that. I just need to... focus."

"Yes, focus."

The sun goes down not soon after Ariadne leaves me alone, and I spend a little while just sitting on the top bunk looking out at the forest whizzing by. I can hear Arthur next door fumbling around in his compartment, and I realize I need to heed my own advice.

Focus, Lilah- just focus.


	14. Douze

Sooooo if it starts to not make any sense... I'm sorry. Lilah is confused, I was confused- so I guess you should all be confused too. hahahaha

I love you guys and your reviews are awesome! Whoooo

* * *

The silver suitcase housing the PSIV looks heavy in Arthur's hands, and he's holding on to it so tight that his knuckles are white. When I asked him if we were going to drug her, he said nothing and just told me he had it handled. I am worried about him, I have never seen him distraught before. It's unnerving.

This is Arthur, he's calm and put together and the definition of cool, calm and collected.

After the sun goes down, we all slip into her compartment one by one. It's not too small, but isn't exactly the right size for five people, one of which is practically lifeless with sleep, but we make due. I don't pay attention to Eduardo fiddling with the machine, or anything besides my own nervousness. He hits the button abruptly and everything goes blurry. I fight it for one second, but soon I am drifted into nothingness. This has always been my least favorite part, it has a very 'going down the rabbit hole' feeling to it.

I'm floating down a tunnel just like Alice, and then everything is quiet and I am standing in a room with a dying man, he's hooked up to IV's and tubes and my eyes go wide. I assume I am a nurse, because my outfit is white and I recognize Cassandra across the bed, and she's staring wide eyed at the man I guess is her husband.

Which means it's Eames.

He better do a good job of dying.

Her subconcious is picking up the slack for us, and a doctor walks in. He's young and kind of cute and he starts talking a lot of medical jargon about some severe allergic reaction and the chances of survival. This guy died of an allergic reaction? That's lame.

I'm gonna make up my mind right now and say she killed him. I kind of duck out of the room and see that Ariadne did a good job of making up the hospital. Looks good enough, real state of the art, handsome staff.

I realize I have no idea what I am supposed to be doing, because if I act as the dead mother just now, the jig is up. That's act two.

So I wonder the hospital, wondering where Arthur is and hoping he's not decided that now is the time to have his very own nervous breakdown. "Nurse, excuse me, nurse."

I stop in my tracks and turn slowly to see a distraught looking Cassandra, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. There are no tears- this an act. "Can I help you with something?"

"My husband is in there, and his daughter will be here soon. I could not bear to tell her that her father has died, and I was wondering if you could do it for me."

"He passed?"

"Yes." She answers back, shaking her head, looking at me like I'm stupid. I don't like this woman one bit.

"I will tell her in the event she arrives. Her name is Callie, right?"

"Yeah, thanks." And that's it, she stalks off in her designer heels and I assume I have fufilled whatever role I was supposed to play. I realize quickly that the planning stages of this job were hastily put together, not that Arthur doesn't have a damn fine excuse, but how about taking a sabbatical from work when your best friend is going bonkers.

I lean against a wall and close my eyes for a minute, letting out a deep sigh. Maybe she really did ki- "Lilah, that is you, right?"

It's Eames, and when I open my eyes he still looks like the dead man, and I hold in the little shreik that rises in my throat. "Of course it's me. What's the matter?"

He looks nervous, and pale (that might just be from the outstanding lack of dead). "I think we've made a terrible mistake. Something's gone wrong."

He's got my attention now and I lean out and grab his arm. "What happened?"

"I think we're playing on insecurities this woman doesn't have."

"How do you mean?"

"We can't implant an idea like 'my husband was more then his money' if she killed her husband for his money. She's not gonna just give it to his stupid daughter after getting away with murder."

"Did she kill him?"

"I really do think so."

"Why?"

"Well, because I was on my death bed in there and she leaned down and said something along the lines of 'die you worthless bastard'. Not only is she a murderer, but she's a stupid one at that."

"We have to find Arthur. We can still perform the second half of this job, tell him we need to get to the second level now." He nods and runs off in the opposite direction as me. For a split second I think of killing myself and waking up, just so I don't have to go on with this stupid job that no one prepared for.

I truly consider it, but realize that it would be the most cowardly thing I could do, so I don't- even though I want too.

I turn down a hall and see Eames talking hurriedly to a nervous looking Arthur. I hurry down the hallway towrds them, and hear the tail end of the conversation. "... I don't care, we have to finish the job."

"But it's fruitless, Arthur. Face it, it's over."

"No, it's not over until I say it's over. You and Lilah will continue with the plan, I will fix this."

"There is no fixing it."

They notice me then and I see Ariadne hurrying down the hall from the other direction. She looks unaware of the current catastrophe. "Ari, do you know where Cassandra is?"

"Yeah, she's in the cafeteria."

"Okay, we need to intercept her now, we're going to level two. Ari, you're going to stay awake, you know what to do." She nods and Arthurs tells me briefly to stay with Ariadne and get a room ready, while they go and find Cassandra.

"What the hell is going on?" She asks me, and I haven't heard her curse once since I arrived, I find it odd.

"The job is... well, compromised to put it lightly."

"What?"

"Eames is convinced Cassandra killed her husband."

"Oh."

We are both quiet, and then I realize that _the boss_ gave us orders that we are not fufilling. "We should probably go get that room ready."

"Yeah. You go find the room, seven hundred and fourteen. I'll go find them and tell them how to get there."

I do as I am told because if I don't have orders to follow, I'm going with the original plan of abandoning ship. This is ridiculous, Cobb leaves and all of a sudden Arthur is an amateur. I have half a mind to slap some sense into him, but that would only result in us getting attacked by Ari's subconcious, most likely.

I find the room and wait patiently because there is nothing else for me to do.

I miss Cobb.


	15. Treize

She's already drugged by the time they drag her into the room. Arthur is looking less healthy by the second. Ariadne begins to hook up the machine, while Arthur and Eames situate Cassandra on the bed. I wonder briefly is she is a Cass, or maybe a Cassie. I can't imagine calling a murderer Cassie, it just doesn't seem right. What a vile person she is.

"Alright, everyone ready?"

"Yeah," Arthur answers, and sits down at the edge of the hospital bed. I take a seat next to him and hold out my hand. Ariadne pushes the needles in and smiles at Arthur who smiles back, though halfheartedly. "Good luck."

She presses the button and I am falling again, when I feel like I have landed, I open my eyes and I am watching a funeral service off in the distance. I can see Cassandra's bleach blonde ringlets, and tacky attire all the way from here. Arthur is standing, completely stoic with his lips pursed. He looks angry. I can feel Eames behind me.

"Showtime, Darling."

"Yeah, hopefully she won't pull a nail file out of her cleavage and stab me in the neck with it."

Arthur doesn't seem amused, but Eames laughs and punches me in the arm lightly. "Break a leg, pet."

I nod slightly, and walk a couple feet until I find a reflective marble headstone. I purse my lips and close my eyes and sigh, and when I open them again I look like a cross between Bette Midler and Dianne Weist. Her mother was just as tacky as she is, in a cheap TJ maxx skirt suit. God, these people have horrible taste.

I clear my throat and say, "Cassandra, get over here."

And I sound like her, and sometimes this stuff even freaks me out. Ethan asked me to be Rachel leigh cook once and I slapped him across the face- I don't know what made me think of that.

I trip a little in the stilleto's while walking over to where the funeral is being held. I sneak up behind Cassandra and stand behind her. She turns her head, "Hi Mama."

"Hello Cassandra."

She doesn't make a weird face or anything, so I assume that she isn't a Cassie or a Cass or anything like that. She sighs a little and turns to face me. "I feel really bad about this."

"You should, I thought I brought you up with morals. I always wanted you to have better then we did, but this is no way to get it."

She forms her lips to make a slight pout, and I realize she may have been pretty at one time. Before all the makeup and extensions and collagen injections. "But Mama, it was the only way. He would have left it all to his little brat and then I would have been right back where I started. I didn't plan this from the beginning, I swear it, but it was the only way to keep what I had earned."

"You didn't earn this. You stole it from it's rightful owner, you may not have been persocuted by the law for the crimes you commited, but you're going to persocute yourself in the long run." She glances briefly to the projection of what I assume to be Callie. She's crying next to another woman who I guess is her mother by the resemblance.

"I'm sorry Mama," Cassandra says. "But the money is worth it." And then she turns around and I assume I should be dissapearing because in her mind, I'm a ghost. I practically run back to the reflective headstone and stand in front of it for a moment while my features change back to what they are supposed to be. I sigh with relief when I see my nose, and my dark brown hair, and my dark brown eyes. My beauty mark is in place, and I am wearing the same dark wash jeans and blouse I was before.

Arthur catches up with me and grabs my wrist, "You were perfect. Now we have to get back to the car before Cassandra does so that we-"

"Arthur, you know this job is botched. It's not too late to give up."

"I don't give up, Lily. You should know that about me."

"I remember."

He smiles briefly and keeps dragging me toward the expensive Lincoln town car parked on the edge of the cemetary. Eames is in the drivers seat, wearing a little hat and everythig. He looks quite ridiculous, actually. I hold in a laugh, desptie the seriousness of our current situation, and then we wait. After what feels like forever, we finally hear heels approaching and I can see the outline of Cassandra getting closer and closer. I'm assuming Arthur has a plan as to why we are in the car and it's more then just- hey, you're dreaming, let's go.

When she pulls the door to the car open, her entire body tenses as she slides in. She opens her mouth to say something, but Arthur leans to the side and holds a cloth to her mouth, she falls asleep.

Well, there's the plan.

"You do realize this is ridiculously reckless, right?"

He says nothing, Eames hands him the PASIV and he wastes no time hooking all three of us up. He nods to Eames who hits the button, and then I am falling for the third time and when I open my eyes, I'm midconversation, the theatre looks straight out of the nineteen forties and when I look down, the dress I am wearing doesn't tell a different story.

I am briefly distracted again by Arthur's impeccable taste.

I see him across the room, also talking to someone, and he catches my eye. To our left is Cassandra and, surprise, her dead husband. He's whispering something in her ear, and she is smiling.

"Are you even listening?" The man across from me says, and I look up, surprised.

"I'm sorry, please excuse me." I lay a hand on his shoulder and he looks annoyed, but moves aside. Everything is decked out in red, the same color as my dress, and it's unnerving me. I push through the crowd until I am standing next to Arthur, the man he was talking to walks away and we are left alone. The black and white suit he's wearing makes him look like a skinny James Bond. He always looked best in a suit.

"You look beautiful." He says, and stares down at me for a minute before looking up and letting his eyes rest on Cassandra. "Come with me, the show is about to start and I think I know where the safe is."

"Shouldn't I be in the theatre?"

"No, I have a feeling something terrible is going to happen."

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"That's a pretty bad thing not to be sure of."

"Just follow me upstairs to the projection room."

"It's not a play, it's a movie?"

"No, it's a play."

"Then why is there a projection room?"

"Exactly."

"I'm not following."

"You don't have to, just follow _me._"


	16. Quatorze

Here it is. I know, it took forever! We're almost done, thanks for all the support and reviews! WOO HOO!

* * *

I do as I'm told and traipse after him up the large, curved staircase. It has two sides that meet in the middle of the room. A large balcony looks over the foyer of the theatre, and when I look down, I can see a few of the projections looking at us. It makes me a little nervous, but I just stare at the back of Arthur's head and try not to trip over my dress.

"Arthur, why did you have to dream me into such a completely inappropriate garment?"

He stops and turns, smirking a little. "Because I love you in red and anything backless. Now be quiet, I think they are starting to suspect us." He's right, we are being tailed, I can feel it. I hope that Ariadne knows what she's doing. I would have felt better if Arthur stayed behind, he was always the best at it.

I trip a little and catch myself on the banister. I pause and watch as Arthur disappears down a corridor and have to pick the dress up around my knees and waddle after him. It's really very unattractive, but I'd rather not lose him.

Luckily he's waiting for me around the corner. "Where are we going?"

"To the projection room, It's where the secrets are."

"But aren't we in your subconscious, won't they be your secrets?"

He stops and turns, staring at me for a moment and then turning around. "Stop asking so many questions."

I roll my eyes and keep following him, the place is like a goddamn maze. I can hear the play going on and I realize it's the story of Cassandra's life. It's like _A Christmas Carol, _she has to look onto the past to realize her sins, and then to the future to see she will be punished. Except this time it's all in her head- or Arthur's head or... I'm not even sure anymore.

They tried to explain it to me once, the whole dream within a dream thing but it just never made any sense to me. Cobb liked me because I did what I was told and never asked too many questions.

Not to him, anyway.

He leads me to a big wooden door with a small plaque labeled 'projection room' and pulls a gun from his back waistline. "Should I be setting up some sort of kick or something?"

"No, I've got a plan. All you have to do is hold this gun and shoot anyone that comes near this door."

"What do I do if someone shoots _me_?"

He must be running on pure adrenaline and fear because he wraps and arm around my waist and slams his lips to mine in a kiss so abrupt I can't even respond. I just stand there with my eyes open, in my stupid red dress with my hands up in the air. He pulls away, breathing hard and smiles. "Then I'll save you."

Then he disappears into the projection room.

I don't actually know how to shoot a gun, I mean, I know what I've seen in movies. You pull the trigger, bullet goes boom, bad guys die. Somehow I think there is more to it then that. I pace for a little, half wishing that some unnamed goon would turn the corner so I would have something to do.

I run a hand through my hair, which is surprisingly sticky with product. You would think in a dream you wouldn't need hairspray and styling glue- but no. My hair is unruly in everyone's mind apparently.

I sigh heavily and then, footsteps. I can hear them, and the click of a gun... cocking? Do I need to do that to mine? I fiddle with it for a moment and before I can figure out what to do I am rushed. I let out a shriek as the man shoves me into the wall. Almost like a reaction I bring my knee up in between his legs and he backs away. I raise the gun and pull the trigger... nothing.

"Oh, Shit." I mutter, and hit him on the top of the head with it. I pull the little lever thing, it clicks, and this time when I point and shoot the bullet fires and the bad guy dies.

I guess that wasn't so hard.

I lean against the wall again and wait for Arthur. I consider what a stick in the mud he was the last time I saw him. He went from a spontaneous, cute little physics nerd to a suit wearing, secret stealing professional in a matter of months. I cross my arms and huff a little, I can feel a pout forming but I don't let it settle on my features.

I'm pondering what kind of James Bond ridiculousness he is getting himself into when the door opens and he grabs me by the hand, reading from a piece of paper.

The projections pick this moment to find us and he starts to run. I follow him, even though I don't really have a choice since he's practically dragging me. I can hear applause coming from the theatre, "The play is over."

"I have good timing." he says, and pulls me behind a door that lead to a stair case. We climb and climb and somewhere around the third floor I kick off the heels and go barefoot.

"How many stories is this building?"

"Six."

I stop, even though I can hear the projections gaining on us. "We're jumping, aren't we."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Then yes, we're jumping." He takes my hand and helps me up the rest of the stairs. "I'll meet you up there in exactly three minutes."

"What- no, you have to come with me."

"I have to give us a little time, just go, I'll meet you up there."

"You better."

"I will, just go." He says, and I can hear the projections running up the stairs, and he looks so... excited. Arthur actually looks excited. I imagine I look nothing short of desperate, but I leave him anyway. Three more flights of stairs later and I am pushing the door open that leads to the roof. A rush of cold air hit's my face and I see I am looking out upon a vast city.

I am distracted momentarily by all the twinkling lights, so distracted that I don't feel the person lurking up behind me.

"Who are you people?" She says, followed by the click of a gun.

Cassandra. Wonderful.

I turn around slowly, and there she is, gaudy as ever. She's much shorter than me, maybe around five four or five five. I tower over her in heels. "Cassandra, I can explain-"

"So explain, why were you at the hospital, and in my car at the cemetery. Is this place even real?"

I don't know what to say to her, but I know she has the gun so I better make up something quick. "We specialize in a very specialized type of security, we were hired by-"

"By who? Are you trying to steal something from my brain? My husband was trained for this sort of thing, he was worried about it when he was still alive. I know what you're doing. And you're done. You're not getting in my brain, sweetheart."

The door from the inside flies open and Arthur is silhouetted by the light from inside. "We already did."

Cassandra mouth opens slightly, and then she looks back at me, then back at Arthur and then there is a pop. The pop is louder then my ears can register, and it's followed by a searing sharp pain on the right side of my abdomen. When I touch my hand to my stomach it comes back red, and I think my dress is bleeding. My pretty red dress is ruined, the dye is falling off it. We better wake up soon or the color will fade from everything, and this will look like some insanely ridiculous film noir.

And then I'm really dizzy and Cassandra drops the gun, and Arthur yells out and runs to catch me, but he's too late because I collapse onto the cold, hard concrete.

He picks me up, and I'm leaning into him and he leans into my hair and whispers, "Jump." And then I'm falling and I briefly see Cassandra follow us and I realize things have gone terribly wrong.

The wound still hurts even after I wake up in the Lincoln town car and then again in the hospital room. It isn't there- and yet it still hurts.


	17. Quinze

How come I take forever to do everything? This is the second to last chapter. and I may write a sequel! Thanks to all of you who are still enjoying it, and to all the wonderful reviews. I love you guys! Enjoy!

* * *

"How come every time you lead a job, someone gets shot?"

After we have all scurried out of Cassandra's compartment, we gather all of our things and exit the train as quickly as possible. I have never liked Chicago, the food, the people- it's just never appealed to me. It was Eames who asked Arthur why someone always gets shot, Arthur doesn't answer.

Ariadne is looking more distraught by the second, and I realize she probably has a lot on her mind, the poor thing. I wish I could tell her about Cobb, but Arthur would have my head on a platter.

I'm tingly all over, and nervous and thumbing the little elephant in my pocket every couple of seconds because my view of reality is skewed. I'm groggy, and my abdomen hurts on the right side, and Arthur's fingers are fidgeting because he wants to roll his die.

Ariadne is staring at some indescribable chess piece. Pawn, queen, bishop- I can't quite tell.

All of our silly little totems in one place, there to make us believe this is the real world.

"It's not my fault." Arthur says, and Eames snorts.

"Saito, Ariadne, ME and now Lilah- you're on a roll, mate."

Arthur purses his lips and pauses. "I didn't lead the job with Saito."

"You're the reason he got shot, because you didn't do enough research."

I sense the oncoming blood bath and force myself in between them, laying a hand on Arthur's chest. "Down boys, it's no one's fault I got shot. It's the mark's fault if anything, she was the one holding a gun. "

"When do we know if the idea stuck?" Ariadne asks, her voice is small and sounds far away, like she's on another planet. I can see Eduardo a ways behind her buying a cup of coffee off of a cart.

"When Callie get's her money." Arthur answers, choosing not to tell the others that it most definitely didn't. She figured us out- we botched it. He picks up the suit case and the duffel bag that holds his belongings, he looks between Ariadne and I and sighs a little. I wonder if we're going to talk about the fact that he kissed me or just pretend like it didn't happen, frankly, I could go either way.

We stand in a circle, completed by Eduardo who returns with coffee and tired eyes. It's he who speaks first, kind of begrudgingly. "So, where is everyone going now?"

I don't know if Arthur is going to say California, so I wait for him to answer before I do. Ariadne bites her lip a little and shrugs. "I feel like I should go back to school, but I don't think there is anything left for me to learn."

Eames glances at all of us."Home, I am headed home. My sister's having her rugrat in a couple of weeks and I'd like to be there so I can hit her ponce of a husband for knocking up my baby sis." I chuckle a little, and he just stares me down. "I'm serious."

"I don't doubt it." I answer, staring at him strangely.

"I have to visit an associate of mine back in Berkeley. Collect some money." Eduardo says, and Ariadne rolls her eyes.

"What about you, Arthur?" Ariadne asks, tilting her head.

Arthur pauses, and sets his belongings down. He looks very proper in his suit, and straightens his tie (a nervous habit), before dressing the group. "There is something that I have been keeping from all of you." He pauses again, and purses his lips. "Cobb isn't actually with his kids- he had a severe nervous breakdown and for the last year, he's been in an institution."

"Dammit," Eames mutters under his breathe, exhaling heavily. Ariadne is by far the most effected, I can tell by her face.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" She says, her eyes squinting in confusion. "He's home, he went home... Saito cleared him and he... he went home."

Arthur shakes his head. "Yes, he went home, he did. But his children aren't there, they haven't been for a long time. Mal's mother moved them after they started receiving threats. He was having delusions, everything he was telling us was completely fake."

"Is he okay?" She asks, tilting her head and looking more distraught by the second.

Arthur shakes his head no and she begins to cry. Arthur catches my eye and sighs heavily, I realize I should take over for him before he has some sort of emotional breakdown. "I'm going to California with Arthur to make sure everything is okay- I promise that if he i-"

"Why does she get to go with you?" Ariadne asks, pointing at me. "Did you tell her before you told me? How could you. We were... we were the ones that saved him. She wasn't even there, she didn't even know him anymore."

Ouch.

"Ariadne, I don't mean to be rude, but I have known Cobb a great deal longer then you have. Judging by your current demeanor, maybe seeing him in that state would only cause more damage to him. He needs to be surrounded by people who love him, but aren't _in love_ with him."

I will admit, it was uncalled for, and I said it for no other reason then to hurt her feelings because she hurt mine. Eames grabs me by the shoulder a few seconds after the words leave my mouth, and pulls me towards the Coffee cart.

"Lilah, that was-"

"Rotten, I know. She needed to hear it."

"No, Darling, you needed to say it. I know the difference." He's right and he knows it, and I know it and I do feel bad, but not as bad as I probably should.

"Okay, so what? Everyone knew."

"Arthur didn't know, Eddy didn't know- Cobb doesn't know. You know who that leaves? Just me, and I told you, so guess what? Two peas in a bloody pod we are, and I'm about to get my ass chewed because you decided that you needed to defend your honor with a low blow."

"Wait- she told you?"

"Yes, she told me. There was poker, and bourbon and well, she told me, let's leave it at that."

When I turn around, I see Arthur standing alone looking totally neutral. His whole demeanor is stiff, and every hair is in place, and the suit hugs his body in places it shouldn't and I realize for the first time how skinny he is, how gaunt. Something is off about him, maybe he's jealous, maybe he's upset- I can't tell.

"Arthur..." I say his name and he looks at me and sighs, picking up his bags again.

"Let's go, our flight leaves in two hours."

"But Eames-"

"Say your goodbyes, meet me outside." And he turns and walks away from me. My bags are on the floor beside an annoyed looking Eames, but he softens when I turn around and opens his arms. I hug him, and he holds me there for a moment.

"Take care of yourself, Lilah." he says, and releases me. "And him, for that matter. I'm worried about them both."

"You, worried about someone besides yourself?" I say, and slap his arm playfully. He grins and then sighs.

"Keep him grounded, you were always the one who brought him back to reality."

"I was, wasn't I." I state and look him in the face. "Don't get in too much trouble."

"Eh, you know me, Pet- I attract it. Keep in touch."

"I always do."

He grabs me and hugs me again, squeezing so tight that I choke a little, and he releases me and pats me on the head. "Goodbye Lilah."

"Goodbye Eames."


	18. Seize

IT TOOK FOREVER. But this is it.  
It's the end and you have all been amazing and stuck with me and omg I love you. So keep reviewing and re reading and maybe LOOK FOR A DEQUEL. Because I love writing Lilah and Arthur.

enjoy!

* * *

I find Arthur standing outside, it's raining very hard and he looks really sad. "We still have a shot, you know, that the idea will stick."

"No we don't."

"We care about what happens in our dreams, even if what happens makes no sense."

He doesn't say anything, and a black car pulls up and he helps me put my bags in the trunk and then we slide into the back and pretend that the energy between us isn't buzzing a million miles a second. We pretend that his hand isn't touching my thigh.

I don't even know what airport we are going to, and I don't ask.

"We aren't going to mention anything about Ariadne to Cobb." He says, and I whip my head around to stare at him.

"Of course not, why woul-"

"Given you utter lack of tact earlier, I thought I should say something."

I don't say anything because I am angry, and I push his hand away from my leg because I'm sick of ignoring it, and I cross my arms and turn towards the window. I decide that I actually do want to say something, so I turn to face him. "Obviously you have chosen to forget more about me then I previously thought."

"Lilah, I remember more then my fair share. Believe me."

"I don't."

I can see his jaw tighten when he turns his head to look at me, and then turns to look out the front of the car. He speaks through what sounds like gritted teeth, an edge to his voice I have heard only once before."Do you think I don't remember everything about you? That your favorite song is Hallelujah, or that you eat a toasted croissant with Jam every friday morning." He pauses, and looks over at me. "That you look more beautiful in red than any woman I have ever seen. Do you honestly think that it has gotten any easier for me?"

"Yes. Because if it hadn't you would have come back for me, and if you didn't want to remember, you wouldn't have left in the first place."

He tightens his jaw again and turns away from me. We don't talk the rest of the way to the airport.

When the driver stops under the fluorescent lights of the drop off section, I am asleep and I wake with a start. Arthur slams the car door shut and removes our luggage from the trunk, setting it on the sidewalk. He hands the driver some money, and he speeds off after I exit the car. Arthur doesn't speak to me,

In fact he doesn't speak to me until we are sitting in first class, and the stewardess is offering us champagne. He accepts and hands me a glass, and looks me straight in the face and says, "I'm sorry."

I clink my glass to his. "Cheers."

I down the glass and the carbonation makes me cough and he pats my back, and I set the glass down on the small tray table that is supposed to be upright and secured- but isn't.

"I'm sorry that I kissed you, it was-"

"It's fine."

"No, it's not. I would never expect that from you, to just take me back, not after what I did. It was inexcusable and I should have had more faith in you."

"Yeah, you really should have."

He pauses, and then breaks out in a laugh. "That's it, no heartfelt apology on your part?"

"What could I possible have to be sorry for?"

"For coming back here just to prove a point, for making me think you slept with Eames, for ruining what could have been my relationship with Ariadne?"

"I didn't come back to prove a point, I never _made_ you think I slept with Eames, and Ariadne never had real feelings for you- so no, no apology."

We are quiet until the plane takes off and he leans his head back onto the headrest and keeps looking over at me until I finally say 'what' and he says nothing, but I know it's something because he's smirking. "Do you remember that time that we-'

"In the bathroom on the way to Buenos Aires, yes I do."

"And then you told Eames, and he didn't believe you."

I smile. "The bastard." I pause and sigh, "I miss those days. Remember thanksgiving with Mal and Cobb and everyone. Eames had never had sweet potato pie, and he ate the whole thing and then drank too much and threw up." Arthur laughs out loud, and for the first time since I came I see him let loose. He loosens his tie, and the champagne is making him giddy and red in the face.

"I never stopped loving you, you know." He says, and it's more of a statement then a confession and I look over at him and smile, and he smiles back.

"I never got rid of your things, so maybe that means I never stopped either."

The plane ride is long, and we talk about a lot of things we should and I get more and more nervous about seeing Cobb in such a state and feel bad about what I said to Ariadne. Arthur warns me not to bring up Mal, and tries to hold my hand but I don't let him and I sigh and turn red and become nervous when he lays a hand on my knee. Somewhere between baggage claim and the ride to the institution I realize I have fallen for him all over again.

But you know, the thing about romance is- people only get together right at the very end.


End file.
